


Snowball Fight

by godzillachild



Category: Arthur (Cartoon), South Park
Genre: Crossover, Gen, I don't know what I'm doing but i'm having a lot of fun, Kids, My First Fanfic, Playing Gone Wrong, Snow, Snowball Fight, War, Winter, godzillachild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godzillachild/pseuds/godzillachild
Summary: Every year on the first snowfall, the kids in Elwood City are plunged into the most brutal snowball fight in America. And this year the stakes couldn’t be higher- some kids from out of town have kidnapped Muffy Crosswire and have taken control of her mansion! It’s up to Arthur Read to lead his team to victory, or else the evil kids from a small mountain town will rule Elwood City! (For like the last two days before Christmas break ends, but still.)





	1. The New Enemy

       Fluffy snowflakes drifted down from the quiet grey sky over the sleepy Boston suburb of Elwood City, Massachucets. It was a chilly morning, but whether it was the final days of December or the first few days of January, nobody could tell. The daze of the holidays rested peacefully over the quiet town. Nowhere was open, no one was at work, and families were together, resting peacefully, enjoying the frozen wonderland of a New England winter.

            The beauty of the snow was completely lost on eight year old Arthur, who was busy tying on his boots. He needed to get to the treehouse in his backyard, the central meeting point for him and his friends. It was the first snow of the year. He knew, because he’d been obsessively checking the weather every day since Thanksgiving was over. To the adults, the first snow of the year could be a happy day of rest or an irritating day of shoveling, but Arthur knew better. The first snow of the year meant war.

            Arthur double-knotted his boots and headed out the door. D.W, his four-year-old sister, was either asleep or playing with that Mary Moo-Cow 3DS game he’d given her for Christmas. It had cost all his allowance, but it was worth it, because it kept her away from the war. D.W had a knack for pissing off the wrong people, and since you weren’t allowed to stuff a little girl into a snowbank, they would do it to him instead. Arthur shuddered at the memory and tugged his jacket tighter, stomping through the knee-deep snow towards the treehouse.

            “Hey Arthur!”

            “Buster! Francine!”

            His friends were already up, and they helped him up the last few ice-covered rungs of the treehouse. “Where’s the Brain?” Arthur asked. “He’s supposed to be here too, right?”

            “Brain has the flu.” Buster took a bite of a candy bar and pulled out a large rolled up sheet of paper.

            “Aw, what? We needed that turret tower he built!”

            “Don’t worry, I called Binky and he said he’d meet us there.”

            “But- turret!”

            “Have you _seen_ Binky throw a snowball?” Francine cried. “He’s a maniac!”

            “Ugh, fine. What’s our battle plan, Buster?”

            Buster took another bite of candy and rolled out the sheet of paper. It was a poster of Bionic Bunny. “Oops, wait,” Buster said, and flipped the poster over, revealing a very detailed map of Elwood City (or at least the parts accessible to eight year olds) drawn in crayon.

            “The enemy is probably setting up base camp at the school playground,” Francine explained, tapping the location on the map. “I called Fern last night, and she said that a whole bunch of fifth graders were hanging around the jungle gym.”

            “The Tough Customers?”

            “I dunno.”

            “Well, we’re gonna have to sneak up on them,” Arthur said. He took his lucky pencil and drew a line from Buster’s condo to the playground. “We’ll get supplies from the Sugar Bowl, then cut through the woods near the baseball field and build a fort there until we’re ready to ambush them.”

            “The baseball field’s too risky,” complained Francine. “They never plow it, and the fifth graders will see us coming!”

            “That’s why we’re going through the woods, stupid,” Arthur snapped.

            “Don’t call me stupid, four-eyes,” snapped Francine.

            “Guys!” Buster pleaded. “Focus. The real enemy here is the fifth graders! Remember, they got the powdered sugar donut treatment on their side!”

            Arthur winced. He still had nightmares that someone would do the powdered sugar donut treatment to him. It was a nasty form of torture that involved completely burying someone in snow to the point where they almost couldn’t breathe. In the ice storm of ’03 Francine nearly lost an ear to frostbite when the fifth graders had done it to her.

            “So that’s you, me, _four-eyes,_ ” Francine smirked, “Binky, and Fern. Who else is coming?”

            “Sue-Ellen and Muffy.”

            “UGH!” Francine groaned. “Muffy can’t fight!”

            “No, but she _can_ afford to buy us breakfast at the Sugar Bowl,” Arthur said, standing up. “Come on, let’s get over there. I’m hungry, and I dunno how long D.W. is gonna be distracted.”

           

            Despite the seriousness of their mission, the three friends were cheerfully joking around with each other on their way to the Sugar Bowl- they were eight year olds, after all, and it’s hard for someone that young to be serious for very long.

            “I can’t wait to try out my new mittens,” Buster said, showing them off. “Bionic Bunny Action Gloves!”

            “Did your mom get those, or your dad?”

            “My dad’s new friend got them. She’s from the Phillipienes!”

            “Oh cool! I wonder if she knows Sue Ellen?”

            They chattered excitedly as they approached the diner. “Hey look,” Arthur said, pointing to the slumped form of someone sitting propped up against the wall. “Binky’s already here.”

            “Why is he sitting outside?”

            “I dunno. Hey, Binky!”

            Binky looked up, and they were shocked to see his eyes were red from crying. “STAY BACK! Oh, it’s you guys!” he exclaimed.

            “Binky, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you inside the Sugar Bowl?” asked Arthur.

            “And where’s Muffy?” asked Francine.

            “ _They_ took her!” Binky shuddered. “They’re going to take over her house! They’re gonna steal all her money and buy a tank and wipe out Elwood City!”

            “They? Who’s “they”, Binky? The fifth graders?” asked Buster.

            “No! Worse! I couldn’t fight ‘em!” Binky sobbed. “They hit me in the crotch with a snowball that had a rock in it! And one of them called me a- a-“ Binky couldn’t bring himself to say the word “faggot” and started sobbing again.

            “Calm down, Binky!” Arthur said. “Just tell us who “they” are and we’ll fight ‘em for you!”

            Binky’s eyes were wild with terror. “It’s those kids,” he sobbed. “Those kids from out of town!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Remember when Arthur did a parody of "Cartman Gets an Anal Probe?" That was fucked up! But it made me really wanna watch South Park when I was three, so, there is some benefit to this crossover!


	2. Terror at the Playground

They left Binky to drown his sorrows in a chocolate milkshake, and headed for the playground, crossing through the baseball field. Buster and Francine talked about how they hadn’t seen Binky cry like that since the time he ate a peanut butter cup and dropped his epi-pen in the toilet, but Arthur was quiet, deep in thought. It was suicidal to approach the fifth graders, but if anyone knew about kids who were tough enough to break the will of Binky Barnes, it was them.

            A horrifying sight greeted them as they approached the playground. An ambulance was there and the orderlies were helping the biggest fifth grader into it, while other doctors bandaged the remaining fifth graders on the playground. There were nearly ten of them, sprawled out across the equiptment in various stages of agony. Broken bones, broken noses, and blood and tears were everywhere.

            Arthur knew the doctors would yell at them to go away, and he hurriedly stamped over to the nearest fifth grader, who had a bloody nose and a black eye. “What happened?” he asked, shocked.

            “It was those kids, those kids from out of town,” the older boy moaned. “The ones staying at Danny’s house. One of his cousins brought all his friends over for Christmas…” he paused and coughed up a little blood. “We thought they were you guys. They were third graders. But oh god, we were so wrong!”

            “Where are they?” Francine demanded. “They took my gir- they took Muffy Crosswire, and we need to rescue her!”

            “Muffy Crosswire?” exclaimed the fifth grader. “Oh, she’s a goner. She’s so dead. They’re going to attack her mansion and steal all her money!”

            “Well, I can’t say I blame ‘em,” Buster remarked.

            “Shut up, Buster!” Francine said angrily. “Where are they? Tell me!”

            “I- I don’t know,” gasped the fifth grader in pain. “We were giving one the powdered sugar donut treatment- one of them yelled “Oh my god, they’re killin’ Kenny! You bastards!” and then it was like they went insane!” He coughed again. “They’re probably heading for the Crosswire kid’s house. But you don’t stand a chance!”

            “We’ll see about that!” Francine declared. Turning away she began stomping back through the baseball field. “Arthur! Buster! We still need to get supplies!”

            The boys followed Francine back across the baseball field. Arthur looked back at the wounded fifth graders and gulped. What kind of sick monsters were these kids?


	3. THIS Kind of Sick Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Cartman. Trigger Warning for naughty language.

“No sign of the locals yet, Cartman,” Kyle announced, looking through the telescope they’d dragged out onto the front lawn. It had been one of Muffy’s fifty-eight Christmas presents that year. They’d spent the better part of the morning building their fort in the front lawn with her presents. This kid was even richer than Token!

            They’d set up her pink castle playhouse in the front yard and Kenny was busy making ammo for the miniature catapult (a misguided “educational” toy) that they’d put in front of the playhouse. Stan continued loading the Insta-Snowcastle buckets on the roof of the playhouse with Muffy’s new personalized pink snow shovel. Inside, Cartman banged furiously on the controller for Muffy’s Nintendo Switch, which they’d set up along with Muffy’s new Barcalounger Kiddie Sofa and her new personalized pink vending machine. They hadn’t been able to use all her presents, unfortunately. They’d gotten all excited when she showed them the miniature submarine, but when it turned out not to have nuclear missiles, they were sorely dissapointed.

            Muffy herself glowered at Cartman from the corner, tied to a pink personalized chair with pink princess duct tape (a present Muffy had predicted she would hate, and was right). Kyle came in from the telescope and smacked Cartman in the head.

            “OW! Jackass!”

            “Weren’t you listening, fatass? I just said, no locals,” Kyle said. “I dunno if anyone’s coming.”

            “They have to come! We just buttraped the richest kid in this whole fuckin’ town of rich kids!” Cartman said triumphantly. “They’re gonna come and worship us, or else we destroy them, and their Queen!”

            “Dude, we didn’t buttrape anyone,” Kyle said. “We just broke in and stole all her stuff.”

            “How is that not buttraping, Kyel?” Cartman snapped. He put the controller down and walked over to Muffy. “Besides, it’s a tradition. My cousin explained it to me. Every year on the first snowfall of the winter, they have a huge fuckin’ snowball fight. Like that time we played superheroes, except way more lame.”

            “Just because it’s a tradition doesn’t mean they’ll show up. We kicked all their asses already, didn’t we?” Kyle asked.

            “No, Kyel, we have not kicked all their asses,” Cartman said darkly. He faced Muffy. “You! Jew Girl! You said you had friends who were gonna try to rescue you, right?”

            “I told you, I’m not jewish!” Muffy said indignantly. “Francine is the jewish one, and she lives in a ghetto!”

            “If you’re not jewish, then how come you’re so rich?” Cartman snapped. “But whatever. We can kill the jews later. Right now I need to know who these friends are, and if they’re as fuckin’ weak as the kids we murdered at the playground.”

            Muffy glared at Cartman, but deep down a ball of worry was forming in her stomach. She knew they had taken out Binky, and she knew Brain was sick. That only left Sue-Ellen, Buster, Francine…and, she realized with a shudder, _Arthur._ Arthur would inevitably be leading her friends, and she knew he couldn’t fight. The closest he’d come was that time he’d punched D.W, and while that had been awesome, he’d felt so guilty that from then on he never even killed a spider.

            “They’re not weak at all,” Muffy declared. _Well, Francine wasn’t._ “They might not be as rich as me, but they’re going to rescue me and make you all look like idiots.”

            “We’ll just see about that!” Cartman said, pointing at Muffy angrily. “Once we take over your house and kill all the infidels- I mean locals- we can take over this fuckin’ rich people town, and rule the world, for the last two days of Christmas break.” Cartman smiled evilly and turned to Kyle. “Hahaha, I told you going to my cousin’s was gonna be the best Christmas ever.”

            “But I don’t get to celebrate Christmas, Cartman,” Kyle said, confused.

            “Yeah, I know.”

            “God dammit, Cartman!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always hated Muffy Crosswire, but no, she did not actually get "buttraped". That's just how Cartman talks. He doesn't even know what rape actually is.


	4. Prepare for War!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Sue Ellen's in this chapter! Neat!

           “Whatta you mean Sue-Ellen can’t come out to play?” Arthur snapped.

            Sue-ellen’s mom stood at the door in her bathrobe and frowned at Arthur and his friends. They were standing outside her door, each one wearing a bike helmet although none of them had bikes, and Francine was wearing her dad’s orange vest like it was bulletproof.

            “Sue-Ellen is very sick,” said her mom. “The doctor said she needs a lot of rest.”

            “Well, can we go see her for a few minutes?” Arthur asked. “It’s really important!”

            Sue-Ellen’s mom thought for a while. “All right, fine, but only for a few minutes,” she relented. “And I mean a few minutes. We’re not sure if this is ebola or not.”

 

            Sue Ellen, for someone who maybe had ebola, was in remarkably good shape. She was staring out her window with her binoculars when Arthur and his friends came in. No greetings were necessary. Sue Ellen knew why they had come, and her face was grim with bad news.

            “The kids from away have a fort at Muffy’s house,” she announced. “See for yourself.” She handed the binoculars to Arthur, and he looked. Even through all the trees he could see Crosswire mansion, and the pink castle playhouse out on the front lawn. He even got a glimpse of someone running around in a bright orange parka.

            “You got any information on them?” Buster asked. Sue Ellen pulled out her iPad, which she’d been browsing facebook on.

            “They’re all staying with Danny Cartman,” Sue-Ellen said.

            “Danny Cartman? My sister dated him for like a month,” Francine exclaimed. “He was a real jerk.”

            “Well, apparently his cousin Eric is even worse,” Sue Ellen said. “Look at this. He’s been posting about how irritating Eric and his friends are, ever since Christmas Eve.”

            “How old are they?”

            “Our age. Third graders.”

            “Oh no,” Buster moaned. “Why is everyone in third grade insane?”

            “Beats me,” said Sue-Ellen. She pulled up Google maps, which was programmed to Muffy’s house. “I have no idea if they’re preparing for a frontal assault or an assault from the backyard, but something tells me you’re gonna need more than snowballs for this.”

            “Don’t worry, we’re prepared,” Francine said proudly. She had been carrying a backpack, and she dumped it on Sue Ellen’s bed. The contents spilled out- a mini wiffle bat, a squirt gun filled with something that wasn’t water, a bunch of party poppers, and a Mary Moo-Cow plushie that Arthur had stolen from D.W.

            Sue-Ellen inspected their findings thoughtfully. “How are you going to rescue Muffy with all of that?”

            “Hah! You just don’t know how much technology you’re looking at here!” Buster said smugly. He picked up the squirt gun. “This thing is filled with a bunch of my mom’s perfume. It’s a gas attack waiting to happen! And here,” he said, picking up a party popper, “is a genuine hearing disruption device! You can kill aliens with it.”

            “I’m not sure we’re fighting aliens, are we?” Arthur asked nervously.

            “And if all else fails, we’ll just hit them with the wiffle bat,” Buster said.

            “What about the Mary Moo-Cow?”

            “Oh, you squeeze it and it makes a really annoying noise,” Buster said, squeezing it. The room filled with an overly saccharine voice squeaking “I LOVE you, boys and girls!”

            “And that’s going to help…”

            “We’ll use it as a distraction,” Francine explained.

            “Right,” Sue Ellen said doubtfully. Francine began putting all their weapons back into the bag.

            “I dunno, you guys,” she said as Francine brandished the wiffle bat. “From what I see on Danny Cartman’s facebook, these kids look like really bad news.”

            “Well, who else is going to save Muffy?” Francine demanded.

            “Besides, I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Muffy’s got to buy us breakfast,” Buster added.

            Arthur stared at him. “Why didn’t you get anything at the Sugar Bowl when we went?”

            “Mom fell asleep on her purse again. I couldn’t get any cash!”

            “Dude, you could have just asked me, I would have bought you something!” Arthur said in exasperation.

            “You didn’t have any cash, either.”

            “Yeah, but-“

            “You guys,” Sue Ellen said wearily. They stopped.

            “If you get creamed, come back here and we’ll come up with a new plan,” she said.

            “Don’t you have ebola?”

            “No, I have a bad cold. Brain diagnosed me on twitter.” Sue Ellen smiled and pulled up twitter on her ipad. “I asked Brain to see if he could do anything to help, and he says he’s got a backup plan.”

            “Good. We’ll need it,” Arthur said, looking at Francine in her bright orange vest. “I have a feeling we’re about to die.”

            “Don’t be such a marshmellow, Arthur Read,” Francine mocked.

            “Yeah!” added Buster. “Who knows, maybe this’ll go well!”

            Sue-Ellen and Arthur looked at each other, neither one wanting to hurt Buster’s feelings, each one feeling a sense of impending doom.


	5. No Cheating, This Is WAR

 

            Muffy struggled against the duct tape, but it was no use. Cartman and Kenny had used an entire roll of the stuff, and she was stuck there, watching Cartman play on her new Switch. Her captivity was _so boring._ Cartman was more interested in her stuff than in her, and all he did was play video games.

            If Muffy had bothered to look out the windows of her playhouse, she would have been much less bored. It was Stan’s turn to look through the telescope, and Kyle and Kenny had decided to head down the Crosswire’s immacuately plowed driveway. Stan watched them go, adjusting the focus on the telescope. This was such a cool telescope. He wished they’d had something like it when that new kid had moved in during their big cowboys game. He wondered if the kids who were coming to attack them were even half as rich as this Muffy bitch. Then a snowball knocked Kenny over, and he snapped back to reality and yanked the telescope up.

            There were three kids running up the street. They didn’t look intimidating- well, the black kid in the orange vest was a little scary- but Kyle was already screaming “MAYDAY! MAYDAY!” as the one with white hair lobbed another snowball at Kenny, knocking him back to the ground.

            “Shit, dude! Cartman, battle stations!” Stan shrieked. He balled up a snowball and ran as fast as he could down the driveway, where Kyle was already dragging Kenny behind the Crosswires’s gated wall. The trio of locals were ganging up on Kyle, yelling and pelting him with snowballs as he shoved Kenny to safety.

            “Ow! OW! FUCK!” Kyle yelled. “OW! Fuckin’ quit it!”

            Stan lobbed his snowball and hit the one with glasses in the shoulder. All the boys’s snowballs were made “Colorado style”- with rocks in them- and the impact forced the kid to drop the mini wiffle bat he was holding.

            “That actually hurt!” the kid whined.

            “Get fucked!” Stan retorted. He and Kyle pulled Kenny to his feet. “Guys, we gotta shut this gate so they can’t get up to our base!”

            “Hey! That’s cheating!” the black kid yelled.

            Kenny mumbled something rapidly. “Good idea,” Stan said. “You do that and we’ll hold ‘em off!”

            “Do _what?_ What did he say?” asked the kid with white hair.

            “Buster, shut up and make more snowballs!” yelled the kid with glasses.

            “Hahaha! That kid’s name is Buster? What a tool!” Stan looked back and saw Cartman running down the hill as fast as his fat legs could carry him. Kenny was trying to push the gate shut, and Cartman looked at his friend struggling to close the huge metal gates to protect his friends.

“Good hustle, Kenneh,” Cartman said, and kept running down the hill. Kenny swore at him through his parka and kept pushing.

Kyle passed Stan a snowball, and Stan joined the fight. Living in a small Colorado town made you pretty good at dodging snowballs. The Elwood City kids could throw faster, but the South Park kids were better at dodging. Plus, their snowballs had rocks in them.

“OWWW!” shrieked the black kid as a snowball smacked her between the eyes. She fell over, clutching her forehead, and Kyle and Cartman laughed.

“Hahaha! New England kids are pussies!” Kyle taunted, and lobbed another snowball at her. It missed, but it was enough to enrage the kid with glasses, who ran straight for Kyle. Before anyone could stop him, he punched Kyle so hard the boy’s green hat went flying off into the snow.

“Dude!” Stan yelled.

            “AH!” Cartman yelled, flinging his hands up over his eyes. “What have you done? You’ve exposed his gingerness to the whole world!”

            “Goddammit, Cartman, that really hurt,” Kyle whined, running over to pick up his hat.

            “You guys play dirty! You’re not supposed to put rocks in snowballs!” the kid with glasses yelled.

            “You are if you’re not gay!” Stan said. “And you’re cheating too! You can’t punch someone during a snowball fight!”

            “Yeah, Arthur, you just broke all kinds of rules,” Buster said.

            “HAHAHA! Your name is Arthur? That’s so weak! HAHAHA!” shrieked Cartman.

            Arthur turned on Cartman and raised his fist. Cartman stopped laughing and raised his hands and backed up. “Whoa, dude, dude!” Cartman said. “Didn’t you hear Stan? You’re not supposed to punch people in this kind of fight!”

            “You coulda killed Francine!” Arthur growled.

            “Well, yeah, dude, that’s the fuckin point,” said Cartman.

            A clicking noise came from right behind Arthur. He turned around and saw Stan, snowball at the ready, making a gun cocking noise with his mouth.

            “You punch someone else, and I’m gonna shove this snowball down your throat,” Stan threatened.

            “What? Weak, dude, shove it up his ass!” yelled Kyle, who had put his hat back on and was walking towards them.

            Suddenly two snowballs soared through the air. One hit Cartman, and one hit Arthur.

            “AH!”

            “Ow! Buster, watch it!”

            “Oops. Sorry, Arthur.”

            Stan lobbed the snowball at Buster, who ducked just in time.

            During all this Francine had been trying to recover from the direct hit to the noggin. Her vision was spinning a little bit, but by the time Stan had cornered Arthur she was ready to rejoin the fight. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out the squirt gun, aimed it, and pumped it up.

            Kenny gave up on trying to close the gate, and headed back up the hill. There were more snowballs up there, and the fighting would be more fun, if everyone would stop fucking around with Cartman for a few minutes.

            Arthur bent down and grabbed a handful of snow, intending to shove it down Stan’s jacket. But all three of the South Park boys saw him coming and beat him too it. Cartman pushed Arthur down into the snow, and Kyle dumped a huge fistfull of snow on Arthur’s unprotected head. Before Arthur could even scream, Stan yanked open his jacked and threw another handful of snow in there. Arthur shrieked at the cold.

            “Hahaha! Nice! Now let’s pee on him!” Cartman said, and began unzipping his pants.

            He didn’t get further than that. Francine was up with the squirt gun, and splashed Cartman with the entire load of mixed perfume. Cartman shrieked. It was wet, and it got in his eyes, and it smelled- it _smelled-_

            “AHH! GAY! I SMELL GAY!” screamed Cartman. He clawed at his eyes and ran back up the driveway. “I SMELL GAY! I SMELL GAY!”

            “Uh, is that our cue to retreat?” Kyle asked. In response, Buster lobbed another snowball at him.

            “ACK! Dude!”

            “Run!” Stan and Kyle raced back up the driveway and up the hill, towards their fort. But not before Stan turned around and yelled, “This isn’t over, you bastards!” Buster lobbed another snowball at him, but it missed. He started running after the boys, but Francine grabbed his coat.

            “Don’t. They probably have more ammo up there,” she said.

            Arthur brushed the snow off his glasses and put them back on, looking to Francine. “Are you okay? Do you have a repercussion?”

            “It’s called a _concussion_ , doofus,” Francine snorted. “I’m fine. It’s no worse than a baseball.”

            “Man, these kids are insane!” Buster said. “Who puts rocks in a snowball?”

            Arthur helped Francine stand up. “Well, we know one thing. If they’re this strong outside of their fort, they’ll be even stronger inside of it!”

            All three of them looked up and watched the boys run into the castle playhouse. The view from Sue-Ellen’s room hadn’t done the defenses justice. There was a snow wall built around the entire fort, which you had to climb over. There were buckets of powdered snow on the roof just waiting for someone to dump them on an invader. And most worryingly of all was the catapult, which Kenny was already loading with a gigantic snowball.

            “She got the catapult? No way,” protested Francine. “That wasn’t even in her top ten presents.”

            Arthur looked closer. Kenny was still messing with the catapult. There was a little lever, and Kenny got down and stood by the lever, and- what was he doing with his hand, was that some kind of sign language or-

            “INCOMING,” shrieked Buster. The huge snowball was flying through the air, over the fence, straight towards them. They ran into the woods and didn’t stop until all three of them were under a tree. Just in time. The snow-cannonbal hit the pavement with a _thud._ The snow around it fell apart, revealing a bowling ball under the snowy exterior.

            “Whoa,” breathed Arthur. “What if that had it one of us?”

            “We’d be dead,” Francine said matter of factly. “Come on. We need to get back to Sue-Ellen’s house and see if Brain came up with a plan.”

            “We don’t need a plan,” Buster whimpered. “We need a snowblower and some riot gear.”

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rules of a snowball fight are not to be broken!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, godzillachild here! I've never written a fanfic before and I'm having a blast. All apologies to Marc Brown, Trey Parker, and Matt Stone.


End file.
